


Tandem

by leighwrites



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, all aboard the s.s.stedie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 15:05:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15843768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leighwrites/pseuds/leighwrites
Summary: Everyone finds their soulmate... eventually.





	Tandem

Everyone is born with a small plastic timer embedded into the skin inside of their wrist that counts down until the exact moment in which they will meet their soulmate. There are always people looking down at their clocks when the timer is almost done, anticipation high for the moment.

For Beverly Marsh, the moment her clock stopped had been back in the eighth grade. She’d turned thirteen not long ago, when Ben Hanscom and his mother had moved to Derry. She had been so interested in checking her watch which now displayed **00d, 00h, 2m 10s** that she’d slammed right into him and knocked the stack of books from his arms.

As she apologised profusely and swept his books up to hand them back over, she caught sight of the neon green numbers and letters on her wrist.

 **00d, 00h, 00m, 00s** stared back at her unblinking before the plastic screen went blank.

The name **Benjamin Hanscom** took its place in bright green letters.

For Mike Hanlon, that clock-stopping moment had been at fifteen. He’d been delivering something into town for his parents when he’d almost ridden his bike right into some poor girl who had been crossing the street. As he stood there, gripping the handlebars of his bike in a tight grip, he heard the buzz of his timer.

 **Julie Bell** was the name now displayed on the timer in place of the numbers.

For Richie Tozier, that moment had been in his sophomore year. That had been the moment he’d met Bill Denbrough for the first time. Sure, everyone knew _of_ Bill. He was an athlete. It was hard _not_ to know who he was. But Richie had never really met him in person before now.

Richie had been smoking in a stall in the boy’s bathroom during lunch when he’d heard the voices of the jocks just outside at the sink unit. They were laughing about something and congratulating each other on a good practice, and Richie was happy waiting until they were gone before leaving.

Bill was nice enough from what he’d seen, and so were some of his friends, but the others were not, and it wasn’t something he was particularly in the mood to deal with.

But Bill was a person who had kept his eye on his clock all day, which now stood at **00d, 00h, 00m, 40s,** so when his friends had left the bathroom he’d stayed, gesturing to his wrist when one of them, James, had looked back to see why he wasn’t following them.

James gave him an encouraging smile, letting the bathroom door swing shut behind him as he left Bill alone in the bathroom.

Richie exhaled sharply in relief and dropped his now finished smoke into the toilet before flushing it. When he opened the stall door and stepped back out into the main part of the bathroom, he’d been surprised to see that Bill was still there, but there wasn’t much time to dwell on it as a buzz came from his timer; mimicked by the one on Bill’s wrist.

And as Richie looked down at the inside of his wrist, the numbers vanished and were replaced with the name **William Denbrough.**

Eddie Kaspbrak, however, had never had a clock.

He had a scar where the clock _should_ have been, but there was no actual clock with a timer, like what his friends had. It was just a small smooth patch of skin that matched the shape. When he’d asked his mother about it when he was younger, she had told him that his clock had been broken from birth, so they’d had to remove it before it could cause any harm to him.

He didn’t have a soulmate. That’s what she’d told him, and Eddie trusted his mother’s words. His mother wouldn’t lie to him. Right?

He was defective. He was different. And while everyone else around him got to find their soulmate and be happy, he didn’t.

One summer, when he’d been at the quarry with Stan and Richie, Eddie had forgotten to put on the sweatband that he usually tugged over his wrist to cover the scar, and he’d been forced to come clean about it when Richie had noticed it and (quite rudely as was Richie’s nature) pointed it out.

Stan had berated Richie for asking such personal questions, while at the same time trying to soothe Eddie and assure him that he wasn’t defective or broken. When Stan had reached out to squeeze Eddie’s shoulder comfortingly, it was the first time Eddie had noticed that Stan also covered his timer.

There was a watch strapped over it, keeping the numbers hidden from everyone around him, and Eddie never bothered to ask why.

Until senior year. It had been bothering him since the first time he’d noticed, because he couldn’t fathom _why_ someone would _willingly_ cover up their timer instead of proudly displaying how long it would be before he met the person he was _supposed_ to be with.

Even Richie, who generally kept his personal life to himself, didn’t bother to hide the neon green writing on his wrist. And when Eddie looked around in his literature class one day, he saw that Bill didn’t hide it either. But Bill was also the kind of person who would stop when he was about to pass Richie in the hallways to give him a quick kiss before heading to his next class, while his friend James would playfully roll his eyes and make fake gagging motions.

Because Bill didn’t care if people knew.

So one lunchtime while they were sitting in the cafeteria, Eddie just _had_ to ask why Stan kept his covered.

“I just don’t see the point in having it on display all the time.” Stan said, placing his fork down carefully. “Like, it’s kind of a personal thing to me. The rest of the world doesn’t need to know how long until I meet them, and they definitely _don’t_ need to know the name of the person _when_ I meet them. It’s my business.”

Richie arched a brow, fork hanging from his mouth. “Are you sure this isn’t just a thing where you wouldn’t want _Rabbi Uris_ to know?”

“Richie -” Stan paused and then shook his head.

“Would you tell _us_ when you knew?” Eddie asked, fingers drumming against the sides of his water bottle.

“Eddie -”

“Right. I get it. Stupid question.”

“That’s not - come _on,_ Eddie.”

“Just forget it, Stan.” Eddie gathered his empty tray and the water bottle before standing and leaving Stan and Richie alone at the table.

“He took that way too personal.” Richie muttered digging back into his food. “He’s been like this ever since he told us about his clock.”

Stan groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Richie, I don’t think his clock was ever broken.”

“What are you talking about Stan?”

“Everyone has a soulmate. That’s just… a _rule_ . So if Eddie’s clock _was_ broken or damaged like he said it was, his soulmate’s would be too. The clocks are _connected_ , Richie. That’s kind of a thing.”

“I know it’s a thing, but it’s not like you can just go around the entire world and investigate everyone’s clocks until you find another one that’s - what are you doing?”

While Richie had been talking, Stan had been unfastening the strap of his watch. He dropped it to the table with a quiet thud; his gaze meeting Richie’s. “You can’t tell anyone what I’m about to show you, okay?” When Richie nodded, Stan turned his arm over wrist-up to Richie.

 **Edward Kaspbrak** was the name printed onto the surface of his timer, where the numbers should have been.

Richie dropped his fork onto the table with a loud clang. “Stan -”

“Yeah.” Stan picked his watch up quickly and curled it around his wrist. “That’s how I know his clock wasn’t broken. Mine would be too. I think… maybe he tried to rip it out when he saw the name.”

“Eddie?” Richie slowly picked up his fork again. “No, I don’t think he did. Why don’t you just show him that?”

Stan took in a sharp breath. “You saw the scar, Richie. It looks like someone dug their way into the skin to extract it. What if he _did_ rip it out? What if he didn’t like the name that the timer was showing him? I couldn’t handle it if he told me that, Richie.”

Richie snorted. “This is _Eddie_ we’re talking about, Stan. Eddie loves this whole soulmate thing as much as everyone else. Remember when we found out about that scar? He was so distraught about it. He thinks he doesn’t have one and that he’s some kind of defective human. He genuinely believes there’s no one out there for him like there is for us because - holy shit.”

“What?”

“I think I just figured something out.” Richie grabbed his tray and stood quickly. “Just. I’ll talk to you later!”

Richie fled from the table, leaving a confused Stan alone.

Eddie didn’t talk to Stan for the rest of the day, which was an impressive feat considering they sat directly beside each other during their science class. When the final bell rang Eddie grabbed his backpack and rushed out of their history class, not even bothering to spare Stan a glance as he passed him.

“Staniel! Stanthony! Stannita!” Richie greeted, slinging an arm around Stan’s shoulders as they left the room. “I have some _interesting_ news for you!”

“Do you have to be so handsy while you tell it to me?” Stan asked, ducking out from under his arm.

Richie didn’t take offense to Stan moving away, simply clapping his hands together with a grin. “Okay, so I talked to Eddie, and don’t worry, you didn’t come up at all. Anyway, his mother told him that there were some complications when he was born, and they had to have the clock removed because it was broken before it could do any damage, right?”

“Richie, I told you. If it was broken -”

“Let me finish!” Richie snapped playfully, shoving the main doors to the school open and raising his backpack over his head in attempt to shield himself from the rain; not that it really did any good. “Anyway, so that’s what his mother told him, and he can’t verify that information because he obviously doesn’t remember that far back in his life. So, I have a question for you. How long has your timer shown Eddie’s name?”

Stan furrowed his brow, trying to remember the exact time his timer had reached zero and changed. “I - for as long as I can remember, why?”

“Right, so like… that means even you don’t really remember that far back either, because you can’t place a year onto it at the least!”

“Is this supposed to be helping me, Richie?” Stan asked, clearly becoming aggravated.

“ _Staniel_ . Think about it. Your parents are _friends_ with Sonia, right? So when they ended up with sons who were somewhat close in age it made _sense_ to set up playdates, _right_? Which means, the first time you and Eddie met was when you were three or four. Which means, Stannita, that this was the moment your clock displayed his name and vice versa.”

“Wow, look at you using the term _vice versa._ ”

“Shut up, I’m trying to help you here!” Richie said, removing one of his hands from his backpack and smacking him playfully up the back of the head. “Stan, what’s the one thing we know about Mrs Sonia Kaspbrak, other than the fact she doesn’t allow us into her house?”

“Richie, I’m tired. Can you just… I don’t know, _spit it out_?”

Richie huffed. “Fine. Sonia hates gay people, Stan. I’m willing to bet the second she saw your name on his clock she did everything she could to remove it so Eddie wouldn’t know. She probably dug those talons she calls nails into his wrist and ripped that damn clock out herself. You _have_ to tell him, Stan.”

“I _can’t,_ Richie. If I tell him, sure yeah, he’ll be ecstatic over knowing he has someone after all, but… then it’s going to be _why didn’t you tell me sooner if you’ve known all this time?_ ”

“Why _didn’t_ you?” Richie asked, now walking in a bouncing step beside him. “Like I get why you didn’t after you saw the scar but… why didn’t you say anything before then?”

“He never said anything. I’d known for years and he never said anything about it and I didn’t know why back then. I thought he just… don’t make me talk about this again. I told you earlier.”

“Gotta open up more, Staniel.” Richie said, rapping his knuckles gently against his friend’s cheek. “I get it though. You thought he didn’t like that it was your name. It’s okay. I’ve seen people fight the soulmate system, but Stan, if you don’t talk to him about this, then you’ll never know.”

Before Stan could respond, a car had pulled up beside them, one of the windows rolling down quickly. Richie dropped the topic for now, opting to turn his attention to his boyfriend who was the one driving the car.

“Billiam!” Richie greeted cheerfully. “I thought you had practice?”

Bill arched a brow. “It’s fucking _raining,_ Richie. Do you two want a ride home?”

“Oh, you are an absolute _lifesaver_ , Bill!” Richie cheered, lowering the backpack from over his head and circling the car quickly. “Just look at what the rain is doing to Princess Stannita’s hair. Get your butt in the car!”

Stan rolled his eyes at Richie playfully, climbing into the back of Bill’s car. He’d never really spent much time with Bill, but in the little time he _had_ spent with him, he could tell he was a good person. He made Richie happy, and that was good enough for Stan. If Richie was happy, he was happy.

“Doesn’t Eddie usually walk home with you guys?” Bill asked, winding the window back up and pulling off from the sidewalk.

“He’s having a little meltdown and is currently pissed at us.” Richie said, tucking his backpack down by his feet.

“You told another really bad and really dirty joke didn’t you?”

“You got me.” Richie said, holding his hands up in defense. Stan appreciated Richie not spilling his business, even to Bill, who had quickly become everything to Richie. “I need to get a filter, I know.”

“Yeah. I hope you can keep a filter on for this ride, at least. I have to pick up my brother.”

“I’m pretty sure that your brother knows more bad words than I do, Bill.” Richie pointed out, leaning back in his seat.

“He’s _eleven_ , Richie.”

“So? I knew these words when I was seven.”

Bill shook his head with a sigh but said nothing else on the matter as he drove. Georgie’s school wasn’t too far away from their own, and Bill quickly found a place to park before leaving them alone in the car to find Georgie.

“You didn’t tell him.” Stan said the moment they were alone, the rain pounding against the roof of the car.

“You told me not to tell anyone.” Richie countered, twisting in his seat to look at Stan. “So I didn’t.”

“You also have a big mouth.”

“You’re one of my best friends, Stan.” Richie reminded him, a grin breaking out onto his face. “I’d never do that to you unless it was in your best interest. You know that.”

“I know. Thanks Richie.”

“Anytime, Staniel!”

It wasn’t long before Bill had returned with a younger boy who, like Richie, had been attempting to use his backpack as a rain shield. He clambered into the back of the car behind Richie quickly, shaking off his backpack and tucking it down by his feet. Georgie was adorable and energetic. He talked about anything and everything to Bill, and Bill would smile and laugh in response, his hand laced with Richie’s on the gearstick.

Georgie didn’t seem to mind, pointing out how it was _cute_ that someone wanted to be with his brother, and Stan wondered if he didn’t _fully_ understand the soulmate concept right now. Georgie’s clock still had a lot of numbers on it, but Stan couldn’t make out anything other than **900d, 20h**.

Eddie knew he’d over reacted that day, though he wasn’t sure just _why_ he had. If Stan wanted to keep something personal to himself and not share it with either himself or Richie, that was _his_ business and he knew that he had no right to force anything out of Stan.

Sure, the three of them were extremely close friends and always had been, but that didn’t mean they had to know everything. Pausing in the middle of attempting to do his math homework, Eddie glanced to the smooth patch of flesh on his wrist where his clock _should_ have been.

And suddenly it made sense.

He’d gotten angry because he was _jealous_. He’d want nothing more than to be able to see his own clock, and then the name of his soulmate, like everyone else around him was able to. But he wouldn’t be able to because he didn’t have one.

“Eddie-bear!” Sonia called from downstairs, startling Eddie, who suddenly dropped his pen. “That… _Richie_ is here to see you.”

Eddie groaned, pushing back from his desk and standing. There was no way in hell that Sonia would allow Richie into the house, even with the pouring rain outside. Sonia was standing at the closed front door when Eddie descended the stairs, a look of displeasure on her face.

“Don’t be out there too long. You’ll get sick. Ten minutes at the _most,_ Eddie.” Sonia said, brushing by past Eddie and into the kitchen to start dinner.

Eddie grabbed a jacket from the hooks by the door, yanked it quickly, and shoved on his shoes before slipping outside onto the porch. The rain was heavier now than it had been on his way home from school, flowing from the end of the porch roof like miniature waterfalls, and there was a soaked Richie standing near the steps, the tip of his foot tapping against the wooden surface almost nervously.

“Shouldn’t you be at home? You’re gonna get sick.”

Richie stared at him for a moment, water dripping from the ends of his hair and his glasses fogged. “We need to talk, Eddie. It’s about your clock.”

“Not interested.” Eddie said, turning back towards the door.

“Eddie!” Richie hissed, grabbing his arm to stop him from leaving. “Please. Just… it’s important.”

“Fine. You have five minutes, Richie.”

Stan didn’t attend school for the next three days. Unlike Richie, Stan had not built up a strong immunity to getting sick from being out in the rain too long. Even as a child he’d been sick so much that he’d ended up starting school a year later than he should have. It had never bothered him though. Being in a grade below everyone else his age was how he’d met Richie and Eddie. They were the only ones who _hadn’t_ thought it was weird he was a whole year older than the rest of them.

Richie had stopped by a few times to check on him, bringing him the work he’d missed, and taking the finished stuff home with him. They didn’t mention Eddie once. Richie would sit at the end of his bed and tell him other things he’d missed. Richie didn’t smoke in the school bathrooms anymore.

He smoked near the football field, and that was how he’d met Beverly one lunch time, and the two of them had quickly become friends. Beverly was nice enough. Stan sat beside her during his art class. She was talented and funny. She was a good person. He understood why Richie would want to become her friend.

Currently, Stan was sitting in bed, his history work in front of him as he tried to focus through the pain of his oncoming migraine. He was so focused that he hadn’t heard his door opening, or even registered that anyone had entered until a backpack was dropped on his bed; bulging from the extra books that were crammed inside for Stan.

“Thanks, Richie.”

“Wrong person, Stan.”

Stan’s head shot up from his work to see Eddie taking a seat at the foot of the bed. “Eddie? What are you -”

“I’m sorry, okay? I got mad at you because you wanted to keep something to yourself. Something you have every right to keep to yourself and I have no right to force out of you. I just, I get so jealous about it, you know? Because everyone around me gets all this properly,” he gestured to the smooth patch of skin on the inside of his wrist, “and I don’t.”

“Eddie -”

“Just let me talk, Stan.” Eddie cut him off quickly and Stan nodded, tucking his pen into his notebook and closing it. “It didn’t occur to me that my scar was connected to you, keeping your clock covered, or that your clock might have already hit zero a long time ago.”

Stan felt his throat constrict. “Richie told you.”

Eddie nodded, leaning back on the bed until his back pressed against the footboard. “He did, and you don’t need to explain anything. He told me already what you thought both before and after. I just. Can I see it? For myself?”

For a moment, Stan looked like he was going to refuse, but then he held out his arm to Eddie, wrist up. He wasn’t wearing a watch over the clock like usual, allowing Eddie to see his own name in the place of his numbers.

Eddie bit the inside of his cheek, staring at the green letters that made up his name. “Would you keep it hidden _now_? I was the reason you covered it, right?”

Stan opened his mouth to speak, quickly covering his mouth as he was hit with a sudden fit of coughing. Eddie moved quickly, clambering from the bed to grab the bottle of water on Stan’s nightstand and uncap it; holding it out to him.

Stan took a quick swig, thanking Eddie as he handed the bottle back over. “As long as we’re in this town? Yeah. I’d keep it hidden. Your mom had your clock _removed_ , Eddie. She knew all this time. Think about what she might do if she suddenly got hit with the knowledge that you know the truth.”

Eddie grimaced and then shooed Stan across the bed with a hand so he could sit next to him. “What about after, when we leave this place?”

“No. I wouldn’t cover it. The second that we’re out of this damn town you can rip the watch off yourself and throw it away if you want to.” Stan leaned back against his headboard, raising a hand to his nose to ward off the increasing pain by pinching at the bridge. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about this before. I shouldn’t - I shouldn’t have kept it from you like I did.”

“I get why you didn’t say anything. I would have reacted the same if I hadn’t known.” Eddie exhaled sharply, leaning against Stan. “So I’m not defective after all. At least… not in the way she said I was. Do you think she had someone professional remove it or… do you think she did it herself?”

Stan grimaced. “I try not to think about that part.”

Eddie nodded, having expected Stan to answer like that. Stan didn’t like to think about his friends getting hurt, let alone _this_ . “Richie thinks she ripped it out herself. I can’t believe she lied to me all these years about it. She’s my _mom,_ Stan. She’s not supposed to do that.”

Stan reached out, lacing their fingers together between them. “I know Eddie. I’m sorry she did this.”

“June can’t come fast enough now.” Eddie sighed, squeezing at Stan’s hand. “I can’t wait to get away from here and her.”

Stan stroked his thumb gently against the back of his hand.

He couldn’t wait either.

At twenty-one, Eddie found that he’d had enough of being defective, despite all the times that Stan would assure him that he wasn’t. Bill had become a tattooist shortly after college, and he’d helped Eddie to design a tattoo to cover up his scar.

Bill had never asked him about the missing clock unlike the people in college who had constantly tried to pry, simply designing the clock tattoo to cover the blank space. Stan had said the lack of clock made Eddie unique, but Eddie _wanted_ to be like his friends. He _wanted_ to proudly display the name of his soulmate.

“You know, there’s only one problem with this.” Bill said, carefully moving the tattoo pen across Eddie’s wrist. He’d already replicated the plastic surface almost perfectly, and was now working on Stan’s name. “It changes again when you get married.”

Richie, who was sitting on a nearby table with a coffee mug in hand, raised a brow. “I don’t think _Richard Denbrough_ will fit on your clock, Bill.”

“Are you really going to say that when yours says _William Denbrough_?” Bill shot, carefully tracing the ‘e’ in Stan’s name.

“So should I just leave half of it blank?” Eddie asked, focusing on Stan who was leaning against the table just a few inches away from Richie.

“No. That wouldn’t look right.” Stan said, tapping his fingers against the edge of the table. “The idea of you doing this is that you want it to look like everyone else’s, right?”

“So do I put Uris then, and get a head start?” Bill asked, reaching over to get a sheet of paper.

Stan considered it for a moment before shaking his head. He knew how much every bit of Frank meant to Eddie, and he wouldn’t take away the one thing he had left of him. He wouldn’t take _anything_ from him after Sonia had forcefully ripped the clock from him.

And she had, and they knew that because Eddie had confronted her before going away to college. She admitted it in stride; not caring in the slightest that what she had done was _wrong_.

“Kaspbrak.” Stan said, hoisting himself onto the table next to Richie. “Guess when that day comes I’ll be the one changing their name.”


End file.
